The Hidden Harbor Mystery by Franklin W. Dixon

Author:Franklin W. Dixon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2010-03-01T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XI

Acrobatic Detectives

“LOCKED in!” exclaimed Joe, rattling the door handle. “What’s the idea?” He and Frank heard the booted footsteps retreating along the hall and down a stairway.

The boys surveyed their little prison. A narrow bed and broad writing table were the extent of the furniture, except for well-stocked bookshelves that covered two walls from floor to ceiling.

“This must be Professor Rand’s study,” Frank whispered. He examined the volumes briefly. “They’re all on ancient Indian civilizations,” he noted. “And look! Here are some written by Professor Rand.”

“Very interesting,” Joe said wryly. “Right now I’m more interested in getting out of here.”

“Let’s try the window,” proposed Frank.

He pulled open two narrow french doors. A gust of cold wind from the sea struck the boys as they stepped onto a railed balcony.

“No ground supports,” Joe noted, leaning out over the rail. “We’re too high to jump.”

The brothers looked around from their perch, located on the front face of the mansion. The huge trees were out of reach, as was the roof above them.

Suddenly, below them, the Hardys distinctly heard the sound of a door closing.

“Over there!” Joe pointed toward a tall man’s figure. The man paused to jerk a flashlight from his pocket. In the same motion, something white fluttered to the ground. Then the man, carrying a spade, slipped around the corner of the house..

“Must be Professor Rand!” Joe hissed excitedly. “I wish we could get hold of that paper he dropped.”

Frank nodded. “Wonder if he locked us in.”

Just then a swift gust of wind carried the white square upward. It wavered, and spiraled around directly toward the boys!

The Hardys clutched and pawed the air. Maddeningly the paper swooped high, sideslipped, and landed on another little balcony two window widths from their own.

“Too far to jump,” Frank judged. “See if we can bridge it. We must get that paper. I’ve a hunch it’s important!” he declared grimly.

They stepped over the top rail together. As Frank wedged his toes under the bottom rail and grasped the lower sections of two of the sturdy spindles, Joe, facing outward, bent down and took hold of his brother’s ankles.

“Ready!” he called.

Frank loosened his foothold but held fast to the spindles as Joe gave a mighty swing, carrying both boys into the air. Joe, finding he could reach the next balcony, hooked his knees over its railing, let go his grip on Frank, and pulled himself up. But just as he stepped to safety, a fresh gust of wind whirled the white paper upward and away.

The paper sailed farther and farther. Finally it disappeared around the corner of the house.

Now, trying the french windows on his own balcony, Joe found them locked securely. The boys groaned and Frank said, “This would have been a swell time to follow the fellow in the raincoat.”

“I’ll bet he locked us in,” Joe reasoned. “He left the secret door through the closet open and the light on in the study, to trap us.”

Frank had another theory. “Maybe it wasn’t Rand whose steps we heard.

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